A Maiden's Kiss
by Jen27ny
Summary: Jaime was desperate for a kiss. Not just any kiss. A kiss that would free him and finally end his misery. A kiss from a maiden.


So yeah ...Kinda forgot to upload some stories here. I'm kinda trying to get back into writing, but I'm not sure if I will. A lot has happened in the last couple of months (the last year and a half to be honest) and it took a real blow at my creativity and life. I'm still "recovering" from it, so I don't know if I will write anything in the future.

Anyways, here is one story. It's based on an actual German tradition. If a man isn't married by his 30th birthday, he has to sweep the floor until a virgin kisses him, usually a niece or a daughter of a friend. It's actually a lot of fun and very popular in Germany.

As always, I posted the story also on ao3.

Enjoy!

Jaime was desperate for a kiss.

Not just any kiss. A kiss that would free him and finally end his misery. A kiss from a maiden.

„C'mon Jaime! Keep sweeping!" Robert Baratheon yelled. „You haven't been kissed yet!" Everyone laughed, already quite tipsy, while Jaime sighed and kept sweeping the scattered sand on the pavement with his way too short, way too colorful, and way too useless broom.

That's what he got for not being married with 30 years.

It's an old tradition – one that was almost forgotten, but of course Tyrion had known about it – that every man who wasn't married at his 30th birthday had to sweep the floor – in a public place – until a virgin kisses him. As far as Jaime knew, they did it to introduce unmarried men to unmarried women, but nowadays it was basically drinking and making fun of the unmarried guy.

Earlier this evening, Tyrion, Adam and some other guys – Jaime was sure that they were friends of Tyrion who just came for the drinks – picked him up. They forced him into a ridiculous pink lace-dress, one that not even his grandmother would have worn, escorted him to one of the most popular streets in King's Landing, and gave him the useless broom to sweep the pavement that was covered in sand. A lot of people had already gathered, some were familiar, some total strangers, but this was something everyone liked to watch. Some children were there as well, and their parents told them to run through the piles of sand, so Jaime had to start again.

He felt like he was going through every single one of the Seven Hells.

With a sigh, Jaime looked at the big clock. Only an hour and a half had passed, but it felt so much longer. A while ago, Cersei and her friends had joined them. They were already quite drunk – obviously from Cersei's own birthday party – and most of them were more than willing to kiss him. Sadly, none of them was a virgin and therefore their kisses wouldn't free him. The children from earlier were already gone because it was too late for them now. Jaime kind of hoped for Margaery Tyrell to come. She was the girlfriend of his brother-in-law's youngest brother, but he doubted that Margaery and Renly had done anything other than holding hands, since Renly was more interested in Margaery's brother Loras than her. But of course she wasn't here. Nor any girl that could free him.

Before he could throw away his stupid broom, he noticed someone standing dangerously close to his just swiped pile of sand. "Don't you dare run through it!" he growled towards the boy, "Do you know how long that fucking pile took me?" To underline his words, he hold up his broom. They had ripped bunches of bristles out of it. Not that sweeping sand was easy in the first place.

The boy frowned. He was big, and Jaime guessed him around mid-twenty. He must come from the gym, still in working out clothes, his blond hair in a short ponytail – Jaime would have laughed at that, if his own hair wasn't quite long, too – and a bag was strapped around his shoulder. The boy looked from Jaime to his friends and back. The frown on his forehead deepened. "You're blocking the path."

Jaime had to blink. Then, he rubbed his eyes and looked at the boy – or _person_ – again. Surely he was just way too tired. He had imagined it. There was no other way. "What did you say?"

The person blushed, big, red, ugly spots all over their freckled face. "I-I said, you're b-blocking the path."

"You're a _girl_?"

Unbelieving, Jaime stepped closer to him. Or her. The person got redder, but he wasn't sure if it was out of anger or embarrassment. "Yes, I am."

"You don't look like one." She certainly didn't. And she wasn't pretty. Not at all. From up close, he could see a crooked nose, some crooked teeth – he would strongly suggest some braces –, a broad face, and a faint scar covering one cheek. Her hands were as large as his, and there was not the slightest sign of breasts. Just as he wanted to laugh at her, he caught her eyes and stopped himself. They were a shade of blue he hadn't seen before, and they looked stunning, wide and innocent. Also, they looked young. Younger than he would have guessed. Curiously, Jaime looked her over again. "How old are you?"

"Why should I tell you?" she asked suspiciously, and looked at her feet.

"Maybe I let you through then." Jaime couldn't even say why he asked, but there was something about here that caught his attention. Or maybe it was just the fact that she could free him.

The girl hesitated, but answered: "I'm twenty-one."

"Twenty-one?" She was way younger than she looked. There was a serious vibe around her, like she couldn't recognize a joke even if it jumped right into her face. She had a faint accent, too. It took Jaime a second to place it as one from the Stormlands.

Stubbornly, she stuck out her chin before she remembered that she was too shy to look into someone's eyes for longer than a second. Instead she moved to walk past him, but Jaime moved with her, blocking her path again. Sighing, she tried it once again, but it had the same result. Finally she looked up again. "Didn't you say you would let me through?"

"I said maybe," Jaime said, and gave her one of his booming smiles. She blushed even more. "I bet you're still a virgin."

Her blushes before were nothing in comparison with this one. Her entire face and her neck turned a deep scarlet color, her eyes went so big that, for a second, Jaime feared they might pop out, and her mouth hung wide open. He was very tempted to close it, but he just grinned from ear to ear.

"I'll take that as a yes, then."

For a second, the girl just looked at him, with her mouth open, looking incredibly stupid. Jaime was quite amused that she was so shocked and obviously had no idea what was going on, but then she lifted her foot and let it hover way too close to the pile of sand.

"No, wait, stop!" He had gripped her arm, and was pretty surprised how muscular it felt, before he remembered the position of her foot. "I ask because you need to kiss me."

The girl set down her foot – thankfully, not into the sand pile but next to it. However, her eyes shone with something between anger and disgust before she wrestled her arm free. "Is that some kind of joke?"

"What?"

"Do you this is funny? Ask random strangers to kiss you? Is that all for their entertainment?" She nodded towards Jaime's em _party guests/em_ who hadn't even noticed their conversation yet. He sighed. This was going to be way more complicated than he expected.

"Listen, - … what's your name?"

"Brienne."

"Listen, Brienne. This whole thing -" He motioned between himself, the dress, and the broom, "is a tradition. An old one, probably too old for you." He got another angry glare from her, but it wasn't as bad as the other one. "I have to keep sweeping until I get a kiss from a virgin."

"You're joking."

"You think I want to do this? I would be somewhere else if those idiots," Jaime pointed over his shoulder, "wouldn't insist on it. It's just a stupid tradition, nothing more."

"And there is no one else who can kiss you?" Brienne asked suspiciously, still looking like a tomato, but at least now she sounded like she believed him a little bit.

"Believe me, if there was someone else, I wouldn't ask you."

Obviously, that wasn't a helpful answer.

The last thing he saw in her eyes was hurt before she turned around and left. Silently, he cursed her for not understanding what he wanted to say, before he hurried after her and grabbed her wrist again. Half-heartedly, he noticed that he just stepped into the pile of sand.

"Let me go," she hissed angrily, and tried to free herself. Jaime had to use more strength than he expected to hold on to her.

"If you promise not to run away, I will." She stopped struggling, but her glare was angry enough that Jaime wouldn't risk to let go of her hand. "I'm sorry for what I said, it wasn't very nice. I'm just really frustrated and want to go home. So, would you please just kiss me?"

He tried to sound as desperate as he could – which he was – and, luckily, Brienne seemed to pity him. Her eyes softened and she looked from him to all the sand and his friends. Wisely, Jaime kept his mouth shut. If he wanted that kiss, it may be better to not talk anymore.

"But … you're so old."

Well, that was not a thing Jaime wanted to hear. However, before his hurt pride could take the upper hand, he moved on. "A peck on the cheek is enough. It's a tradition, it doesn't mean anything." She still looked suspicious. "Please. You're my last hope."

That was a bit drastic, but it seemed to work. Brienne rubbed her forehead, sighed, and finally muttered: "Fine. I'll do it."

"Thank you!" Jaime wanted to give her a hug – right now, he was so relieved, he could have kissed her – but she took a step back, stepping into a different pile of sand. He didn't dwell on it, instead pulled her towards the others. "Hey! I found someone who'll kiss me!"

"W-W-What are you d-doing?" Brienne stuttered, red from embarrassment. The guests turned towards the unlikely duo.

"They have to witness it or else it doesn't count."

"B-But -"

"You need a _girl_ , not a _boy_ , Jaime!" Robert shouted. Everyone laughed, and Jaime could feel Brienne stiffen next to him. He felt a pang of anger. After all, she was willing to help him, even though she wasn't comfortable with it.

"Is that Brienne?" Renly asked, and started to wave as soon as he recognized her, "Hey, Brienne!"

"You know Renly?" Jaime and Brienne asked quietly at the same time. Brienne had stopped a couple of meters away from the crowd, eying them nervously. She looked like a scared animal waiting for a chance to escape.

"Are you going to chicken out?" he asked, though he tried to sound as confident as he could. It wasn't like he couldn't understand her. Her eyes – her big, blue, beautiful eyes – darted to him and back to the crowd.

Just as he wanted to tell her to go, that he would find someone else, that she didn't have to do it, she had leaned forward and pressed her chapped, big lips against his cheek. Not long, it was barely a second, but it was a kiss and therefore all Jaime needed.

Everyone cheered – it didn't mattered if Brienne looked like a girl or a boy anymore, as long as they had another reason to drink – and he felt relief wash over him. Suddenly, there was a sharp tug at his hand, and then Brienne was gone. "Hey, wait!" She didn't turn around, but kept walking. Even from where he stood, he could see her glowing blush. "I owe you a favor!" Brienne didn't reply, just kept walking until she was out of sight.

"How do you know Brienne?" Renly asked, as he came over to hand Jaime a drink. He took it, but didn't drink from it.

"Literally just met her. What about you?"

"She goes to my uni. Just moved here a couple of weeks ago from Tarth."

"Tarth? Isn't that an island in Shipwreck Bay?" Renly nodded. No wonder she had an accent. "What else do you know about her?"

"Not a lot. She does a lot of sports. Swimming, running, basketball, all that stuff. And she is quite good as well. She beat Loras and he still sulks about it. I don't think she has a lot of friends, but Margaery tries to befriend her. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, just out of interest. Also, apparently I owe her a kiss. And we Lannisters always pay our debts."


End file.
